


More of the Story

by Frenemies to Lovers (divinespook)



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, In which Cardan talks about why he loves Jude, Jude in Exile, Missing Scene, POV Cardan Greenbriar, Pining Cardan, post-TWK
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:54:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26702527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divinespook/pseuds/Frenemies%20to%20Lovers
Summary: A conversation (from Cardan's POV) between Nicasia and Cardan, set right after TWK. This missing scene was inspired by the moment in QoN when Nicasia tells Jude that she got more of the story out of Cardan while she was in exile.-----“She said she wouldn’t tell you about that,” Nicasia huffs. I let out a cruel laugh. She crosses her arms over her chest, and I am satisfied to see that she is losing her composure. She is agitated, heat making her face blotchy. Good.“She lied,” I say with a grin, looking her straight in the face.“And I’m sure you sorely miss her lying tongue,” she snaps back.“More than you may realize,” I say dryly. That shuts her up, her mouth hanging open as she contemplates exactly what I mean.
Relationships: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar
Comments: 14
Kudos: 168





	More of the Story

Although I left the brugh and the feasting and the dancing early in the evening, I am arriving back to my chambers very late. I spent the last few hours with The Roach and The Bomb, who are helping to bring on more spies and have also been designing a new home for the Court of Shadows. I am certain they aren’t actually in need of any assistance from me other than my gold, but I need something other than court politics to fill my time. It’s been weeks, and Jude still hasn’t returned from the mortal world. She hasn’t even responded to the two letters I’ve written imploring her to return.

As I near the royal chambers, a member of my personal guard gives me a nervous look. 

“Your Highness. I tried to get to her leave, but she would not,” he says. 

My heart skips a beat. 

But as I look beyond him, I see Nicasia standing in the hall. I don’t know why part of me had expected to see Jude. If it had been her, the guards would be incapacitated and she would be waiting for me inside. Probably with a dagger in her hands. 

I can tell Nicasia is trying her best to look elegant and alluring, rather than annoyed. But I know her too well. Her impatience may as well be a physical thing, roiling in waves off of her. I wonder how long she’s been waiting here. A while, I hope.

“Ah, Nicasia. To what do I owe the honor of your visit?” I can ask this because I am certain she believes the honor of her presence to be a gift wherever she goes.

“Cardan,” she says with a brief, elegant curtsy. A _curtsy_? She’s certainly trying very hard. “I would prefer if we speak privately.”

I don’t particularly want to invite her into the royal chambers, but I nod and the guards open the doors. I brush past her, quickly taking up the seat where Jude would usually sit. I do not wish to see Nicasia sitting in her place.

Nicasia settles herself in my usual chair, smoothing her skirts around her and folding her hands as if she were sitting to have her portrait painted. She is wearing a different dress than she did at dinner, and I am certain it’s to a purpose that I refuse to consider. She is certainly lovely, with her delicate features and elegant composure, but I can’t remember what it is about her that I loved before. We are allies — but I know now that she is not to be trusted. With anything. 

“Well?” I prompt. Her mouth drops open in disbelief for a moment, but she catches herself. She was clearly expecting something friendlier from me.

“Are we not friends, Cardan? We used to spend time together simply for the pleasure of each other’s company,” she says carefully. 

“Then why insist on privacy, if you have nothing of importance to say to me?” I retort. I wish I was less sober for this. 

“I had thought that…” she pauses, her lips pursing. She is clearly displeased that I am making her spell things out. To be honest, I am surprised that she waited this long to make a move. Perhaps she had been expecting me to come to her. “I had thought that your request for me to be the ambassador of the Undersea was an indication that you may be reconsidering your refusal of my mother’s… proposal.”

Ah. There it is.

“And am I supposed to just overlook Queen Orlagh’s insults to my kingdom and my rule? And am I also to overlook your participation in her and Balekin’s plans to overthrow and _murder_ me, using my own glamoured mortal seneschal?” I ask coldly, staring her down. 

She freezes, her face going pale and her gaze dropping to her hands. She looks a bit like she might be sick. 

“I didn’t know,” she whispers. Even if she _could_ lie, I would believe her -- given the stricken look on her face. When her eyes meet mine again, it looks as though she is fighting back tears. “My mother knows that we’re friends, that I care for you. If that truly was a part of her plan, she would not have told me. I would not have allowed it to happen.”

I let out a long breath. I am relieved that she’s a bit less of a duplicitous snake than I had assumed. Betray me with one of our friends? Sure. Be involved in a plot to murder me? Apparently not.

“Good to hear that your treachery has a limit,” I say flatly.

She looks as though I physically struck her. She wears her emotions on her face so plainly, so loudly, that she may as well be shouting. 

I miss Jude. Miss trying to read every quirk of her eyebrows and twitch of her lips. A pang of longing shoots through me. 

I shake my head, trying to dislodge that unwelcome and unhelpful train of thought. 

“So, what now? Just because you didn’t help to orchestrate my attempted murder doesn’t absolve you of whatever part you had in Jude’s capture and, I assume, torture.”

“Torture is a strong word,” Nicasia huffs defensively. She tosses her hair over her shoulder, something she does when she’s discomposed. 

“Fine. Neglect at the least. And you can’t tell me that you didn’t use the opportunity to inflict a little cruelty, despite her status as my seneschal. I know you too well for that,” I challenge.

“I don’t know why you care so much. Jude said you only made her your seneschal in return for making you the High King. You two hated each other. But then she also said that…” she trails off, looking away, flushed and embarrassed. 

“She said what?” I growl. This ought to be good. 

“She said that you kissed her. And she was glamoured, so I know she wasn’t lying.”

A barked laugh escapes me. Leave it to Jude to wield the truth as a weapon while _pretending_ to be glamoured. 

“What’s so funny?” she demands. I wish I still kept a bottle of liquor handy. I am really tired of handling this conversation sober, and I can tell it’s only going to get worse. 

“I did. Hate her. And I did kiss her. And I did make her my seneschal because she was responsible for giving me the crown.” That last part is true in word, if not in practice. “What’s funny is that you have the nerve to care about any of this. You gave up your right to care who I kiss or who I hate when you allowed Locke to seduce you.”

She has no response to that, just fidgets in her seat as though it’s suddenly uncomfortable. But she continues looking at me as though she is puzzling something out. 

“That’s not all, is it?” she asks. 

“Do not expect me to attempt to read your mind, Nicasia. Say what you will or get out,” I say, although my voice comes out with more weariness and less bite than I intend. 

“I saw the design for the dress in your chambers. The dress she wore to the coronation. You sent it to her, didn’t you?” 

With everything that’s happened between the coronation and now, I had nearly forgotten about that. About my compulsion to dress Jude in the gown I had all but hallucinated on her at Locke’s party. The gown she wore in the dreams I had of her that night. And after. 

At least in the dreams where she was wearing a gown.

That’s another unhelpful thought. 

“And if I did?” I recover. That’s about as good of a response as I can come up with. I didn’t anticipate her even knowing about that. 

“So you didn’t _just_ hate her, then,” she says. It isn’t a question. I feel myself glare at her. 

“None of this has anything to do with you, Nicasia,” I say. I rise from my chair and she looks dumbfounded, but I’m not throwing her out just yet. I want to see this conversation through to the end so I don’t have to do this again. I go to a table where there’s a carafe of wine and pour myself a goblet. “Whatever my relationship with Jude may be, _she_ has nothing to do with the end of what we had. That was entirely your own fault. And it’s not like you’ve done much to improve from there. Jude may be a mortal liar, but she wasn’t the one who was unfaithful to me. And she, surprisingly enough, wasn’t the one who shot me with a crossbow.”

Jude did _point_ a crossbow at me, but Nicasia doesn’t need to know about that. 

I return to my chair and drink deeply from the goblet, draining it nearly halfway. If she wants some, she can get it herself. 

“She said she wouldn’t tell you about that,” Nicasia huffs. I let out a cruel laugh. She crosses her arms over her chest, and I am satisfied to see that she is losing her composure. She is agitated, heat making her face blotchy. Good. 

“She lied,” I say with a grin, looking her straight in the face. 

“And I’m sure you sorely miss her lying tongue,” she snaps back. 

“More than you may realize,” I say dryly. That shuts her up, her mouth hanging open as she contemplates exactly what I mean. 

I grin again and take another long swig of my wine. It’s nearly gone already, but it is taking the edge off. I’m certain the side effect is that I will divulge something I don’t intend to, but it’s better than doing without.

“But… but you exiled her,” she finally says. 

“I did. But I also intend for her to return in due time. And just because Jude is in the mortal world and you are in the palace of Elfhame as ambassador of the Undersea does not mean that I have any intention of rekindling the relationship that you were responsible for destroying. Nor does it mean I am interested in anything beyond being allies or friends. And I am certainly not interested in taking you as my queen, no matter what Queen Orlagh desires.”

She looks at me now with a combination of despair and fury. Her expressions really are so incredibly loud. 

“I would have married you even if you hadn’t become the High King, you know,” she says, her voice coming out a little strained. “That was always what my mother wanted. What she and Balekin had always planned. And I _liked_ that plan, because I did love you.”

“You did a poor job acting as though you did,” I say, voice cold. She laughs, but the sound is devoid of mirth. 

“And what? Jude is better? Would she have even bothered with you at all if you weren’t the king, if you didn’t have any power to offer her?”

That strikes a nerve. I don’t think she would have had anything to do with me if it weren’t for the power she stood to gain. But also, I had never given Jude any reason to do anything other than hate me. I refuse to let Nicasia see that's she's hit her mark, though.

“Jude made _me_ the High King. It was her scheme, not mine,” I deflect. Although… perhaps that wasn’t a wise bit of information to offer. There’s no way Nicasia will see all the way through to Jude’s bargain with me, to the control she once had. But it still feels like a dangerous piece of information to have given up. She looks dumbfounded again. 

“So now… what? You will welcome her back as your seneschal after killing your brother because you are indebted to her for giving you the crown?” she demands. 

“When Jude returns, she will have her place in my court,” I say deliberately. I truly look forward to seeing the look on Nicasia’s face when she realizes that place is as my queen, rather than my seneschal.

We are both silent for a long moment, but all of the tension in the air fizzles to something different. Something quieter. She is looking at her hands as she twists them in her lap. I think she is working up the nerve to say something else.

“Do you love her?” she asks finally, her eyes dragging up to meet mine. 

I struggle to keep my face neutral as my brain tries to supply me with anything I can say that is truth enough to pass. A question, a quip, a deflection, _anything_.

The wine may have been a bad idea, after all.

I sigh, knowing my silence has stretched out long enough to be damning. Nicasia looks equal parts distraught and horrified.

I drain the last of the cursed wine and set the goblet down.

“You’ll be pleased to know that she doesn’t return my feelings, at least,” I mutter. I lean forward and cover my face with my hands, not wanting to see whatever judgment is on her face. She says nothing, so I decide to continue with what I think will distract her enough not to ask too many more questions. “I suppose I have you to thank, partially. I would have continued on not being able to decide if I wanted her or if I wanted nothing to do with her until she was gone, taken prisoner by your mother and Balekin.”

“But. . . why?" she demands. "She's just a mortal." I look up at her, running my fingers through my hair.

“Why?” I echo. She’s really going to ask me why my feelings are what they are? “You of all people should know that love is not logical -- when I was clearly the superior choice over Locke. Perhaps it is because Jude is clever and cunning and ruthless. Perhaps it is because talking with her always feels like sparring with a partner with whom I am equally matched. Perhaps it is because, even though she is a liar and a keeper of secrets, the only time she ever betrayed my trust, I ended up with a crown and a throne rather than a broken heart.”

Now I’ve really said too much.

Nicasia snaps her mouth shut and shifts uncomfortably in her chair. “But you _hated_ her,” she whispers, clearly incredulous. 

“I did, and I didn’t,” I say with a shrug. “I think Jude and I both lead with the worst of ourselves. And because of that, I think she has seen the truth of who I am and has never shied away from it. I do not believe I can say the same of anyone else. Not even you.”

She stands quickly, and I do the same, blocking her exit. 

“You know I’m not going to let you leave this room until you vow not to tell anything I’ve told you to another living soul, by mouth or by writing or any other means,” I say.

She cannot get to the doors before me. Even if she could, I would simply call the guard and have her detained. I can see her calculating her options.

“There’s no one I would wish to tell this to, anyway. You have my word,” she says quietly.

I see now that she had maintained a small bit of hope that she has just now lost, leaving her deflated. That is what prompted her to ask about my feelings for Jude, even though she may not have truly wanted to know. Part of me, the cruel part, is a little satisfied that she is still paying for what she did to me. I nod and step aside to allow her to pass. She gives me a tight lipped smile and sweeps by me, her skirts rustling with each hurried step.

“Nicasia,” I say, facing her again as her hand reaches for the door. She pauses but does not look at me. “I would still like for us not to be enemies. You are free to come and go from Elfhame as you please, but I do wish for you to remain ambassador of the Undersea.”

She is silent for a moment, still refusing to meet my gaze. She looks more defeated than I have ever seen before.

“I will _try_ to be happy for you, even though I think you’ve made a mistake,” she replies. She then squares her shoulders and straightens her spine, takes a deep breath, and rebuilds her composure before exiting the room. She looks to all the world like the queen she wishes she was. 

And nothing at all like _my_ queen.

I take off my heavy jacket and run my fingers through my hair, sighing deeply. 

I wonder what Jude is doing -- if she is punishing me by not returning. I wonder if she is somehow happier in the mortal world, while I miserably await her return. I wonder if she knows she has the upper hand and is just waiting for the pleasure of my surrender. At this point, I am not above it. I am not above begging her to return.

I sit at my desk and begin to write her another letter. Perhaps this one will convince her to come home.

**Author's Note:**

> Between Nicasia saying that she'd gotten more of the story out of Cardan, and also saying that Cardan didn't hate his feelings for Jude, I really wondered how this conversation went down. Also, I just really enjoy writing from Cardan's POV because I also wish I was less sober for most of the things in my life.
> 
> I hope you enjoy! And you're welcome to say hi or follow me [on tumblr](http://frenemies-to-lovers.tumblr.com)


End file.
